#also thats it for tonight folks

[vulcan-moon]

lit cant sleep bc in thinking of transfemme terumob

[queenofbaws]

so...how many pages into tale of the champion do you think varric's editor got before she set the manuscript down, put her head in her hands, and came to terms with the fact she was gonna have to be the one to reveal to this fool that he was in love with hawke all along

[smokeys-house]

I think today would be a good day to send your local smokey (me) an ask or two! Anon or not, about whatever you like....

[bluesidedown]

......

[1252291]

me turning on my lil happy light to force myself into getting vitamin d

[murdrdocs]

just a little bit | e. landry

description. the heat of nightingale, the campers running around, the bus waiting for your departure, none of it matters when you're with your now-frenemy ethan landry

includes. SMUT 16+, afab!anatomy, frenemy ethan landry, slight bickering, heavy make outs, fingering, very slight public sex, chad meeks martin woo!

a/n: ello! no p in v this go around folks but i rlly like this entire setting so i'm down for whatever in the future. also barely proof read but thats okay

word count: 2.4k+ words

The crunch of leaves alerted you every so often, reminding you of not only the obviousness of your location, but also of what was going on around you. Laughter of kids, screams of enjoyment-filled terror, all of it repeatedly telling you that if you were going to do ... what you were going to do, you should probably do it in someone's cabin. Not outside of someone's cabin.

Ethan Landry, your ex-frenemy now just friend (?), continued to kiss at your neck, either unaware or uncaring of the lack of seclusion, his hands gripping at your waist, fingers bunching up the yellow fabric of your camp tee.

You know that you were the one nagging him earlier, begging him to let loose on the last night of camp and just have fun with you once. Your irritation sprung from Ethan’s new status as a Head Camp Counselor, leader of the Wombats, something he’s wanted since you both were young friends on the playground, both growing your final sets of teeth. You have been head of a cabin group for the second year in a row now, the Quokkas, and you’d attempted to tell Ethan that just because he was head of a cabin group didn’t mean he had to abandon all fun. 

He’d only started to believe you today, where his responsibilities mostly ended after encouraging his team during the start of the color war, when the mammals all teamed up against the amphibians. It wasn’t until you cornered him against the outside of his cabin, looked up at him with doe eyes, and pouted all prettily with sweet begs leaving your lips, that Ethan’s resolve physically melted away, and he finally started to give in to the relentless flirting you’ve subjected him to for the past few weeks. 

Which led you here, getting what you wanted, although now you’re starting to reconsider if this really is what you wanted. 

Ethan sucks a hickey at your collarbone, giving himself access with the way one of his thick fingers curls under the fabric of your shirt, and your moan is cut short when you hear what sounds like a twig snapping. 

Your hands instantly create fists at Ethan’s shoulders, your head turning towards the sound, and your eyes squinting in an attempt to see through the approaching darkness. “Wait, Ethan,” he pulls away from your neck, the silence of the forest alerting you of how wet his mouth is. “What was that?” 

In your peripheral, you see him turn his own head, brown curls bouncing with the movement. “I don’t hear anything.” 

He turns to face you and you do the same, your noses almost touching with the proximity. You instinctively push yourself further back, your head colliding with the wood of the cabin behind you, but the distance between you doesn’t feel right so you end up where you started. 

“Are you sure? I swear I heard someone coming.” 

Ethan smiled reassuringly. “There’s no one there. I swear.” 

You have no other choice but to believe him, but there’s still something nagging at you. “Are you sure you don’t wanna go inside? Or go to the bathroom?” 

He shakes his head, one of his hands rising to trace your lips since he isn’t kissing them right now. “Not the bathrooms, Mack and Will are cleaning them tonight, remember? If you wanna go inside, we can.” He swiftly places a kiss on the other side of your neck, coming to face you again. “But you wanted to do this here, remember?” 

He’s got you there. You were the one who suggested how useless it was to go inside whenever none of the campers would be coming to the counselors quadrant. 

You watch a grin come onto Ethan’s face, realizing that he’s purposefully playing on the fact that you’ve always refused to go back on your word, or even – in the absolute worst case – back down from an argument. It’s something that’s made you a great counselor, and something that’s made you a fun frenemy. 

“Fuck you,” you mumble, a smile unable to be forced from your lips. 

Ethan grins, leaning closer to you, his cheek brushing against yours as he brings his lips to your ear. “Oh, I hope you do.”

You decide to shut him up by sandwiching his face between your hands, pulling him to meet you halfway. You take a second to stare into his eyes, admiring the deep brown of them, loving the way he looks enamored with your existence. Then, you kiss him. 

It’s just a little bit softer this time, a little more tentative. There’s more emotion in this kiss, the feelings felt from your childhood crush resurfacing for a second to allow you a quiet, peaceful moment with the guy you’ve dreamed of kissing for years. 

Ethan is the one who changes it. His hand slides down to run over your ass, before it comes around to the front of your denim shorts. 

There’s anticipation in your system. 

You push your back more securely against the wood, praying you don't somehow get a splinter, and tilt your hips more towards Ethan. He takes it as a good sign to slide his hand down, long and thick fingers playing with the frayed ends of your shorts. 

You sigh, hands slinking around to the back of Ethan’s neck, fingers digging into his hair. When his hands just sit there, not doing anything, you grunt and warningly tug on the ends of his hair. He laughs against your lips, clearly loving having something over you. 

But then his fingers nudge up in the small gap of your shorts, and the tips of them tease against your cotton panties, and just that ghost of a touch has you lagging, lips pausing for a second before you pick up the action again. 

Your shorts are shorter than they should be, and earlier today you self consciously commented on it to Mindy, not wanting to wear something too revealing. After Mindy reminded you that you’ve been walking around Camp Nightingale in tiny bikinis, you shrugged and buttoned the pants, thinking in the back of your mind that the pants provided the easiest of access, and also made it easy for you to flash someone your white panties if your legs were spread far enough. 

Now, you’re grateful for the loose and revealing bottoms. They allow Ethan’s fingers to slide further up just enough for him to press against your cunt with more pressure, touch just a tad off from your clit. 

It’s welcomed either way and you pull away from Ethan to heave in a large breath of fresh air, the smell of campfire distant yet still greeting your nostrils. 

Ethan takes that as a good sign and he continues, pushing the pad of his finger in the center of your cunt, running the digit along the expanse to separate your lips and give him more access. In his journey, he feels how wet you are, a sound that sounds like a mix between a choke and a gasp with a bit of a sigh in there, released from his lips. 

“Jesus, fuck.” His pink tongue darts out to lick his lips and you have a thought, hopefully a premonition, about what his tongue would feel like between your legs, stuffed deep inside of you, straight nose nudging against your clit while he loses himself in the action. 

Your slight fantasy-slash-premonition makes you unaware of Ethan’s fingers probing at the edge of your panties, and you don’t come to until he has the elastic band separated from your skin, air greeting your slicked core, and his fingers soon doing the same. 

The sound you let out is completely unattractive in your eyes. Deep in the back of your throat, a hint of bass in it, but it’s mostly a squeal. One that sounds similar to the squeals of frustration you would let out at Ethan up until late last night when things took a turn in your relationship. 

Ethan, however, seems to take pride in the sound, and it spurs him on to continue. He takes his hand out of your shorts for a second, and you're already huffing frustratedly, mouth opening to say something a little offensive, but it instantly shuts whenever thick fingers are forced into the cavern, Ethan staring at you expectantly. You want to be a brat about it, maybe bite down just to piss him off, but the way he's looking at you makes your cheeks hollow out around the digits, and a sucking motion comes shortly after.

Ethan grins, like the asshole he is, and your eyes roll, but you don't stop. You continue as he uses his other hand to unbutton your shorts, undoing them quicker than you thought it would've taken, and then your zipper is down and Ethan takes his fingers out of your mouth. You watch as he uses the dry hand to pull the band of your panties back, and then the wet hand slips down, resting between your lips.

Your head thuds back against the wood, your eyes closing with a sigh as Ethan starts to really work you. His fingers slip down to your entrance, one singling itself out to probe at your entrance. It slips in easily, a little embarrassingly, but it feels so good so you're not ashamed of how ready you are for him.

The first finger is barely there before you're begging for the second to join, Ethan clearly also in a better mood than usual as he gives you what you want without any teasing from his end.

He steps closer into your space, free hand clutching your waist gently, his head burrowing in the crook of your neck where he presses a kiss into the skin. "That feel good?" he asks, voice low and gravely and so fucking hot. Your hips push into his hand, you nod, hand reaching behind his head to hold him in place.

"Yeah, E. Feels good."

Another kiss is pressed into your skin and your hold on the back of Ethan's head tightens, nails scratching into his scalp. Ethan takes the hint and his lips wrap around your skin. He sucks, and licks, and nips, and you tilt your head to give him more access.

It's risky, letting him mark you up, but its dark and you have makeup back at the cabin and you want something to remember this moment by.

His fingers reach deeper, if even possible, and you're sure that they would've reached the spot in you that only one other person has been able to. You're sure that Ethan, as receptive and observant as he is, would've noticed your reaction and he would've given you what you want, maybe after some healthy teasing, and then he would've given in, working you to an orgasm. Which, probably would have happened. If it weren’t for the distinct sound of footsteps from around the cabin. 

You flinch aggressively, a swear escaping from your lips as your legs instantly close around Ethan’s hand. It takes him a second to pull his hand from between your thighs, and for you to at least get your pants buttoned, and a second is all you have before Chad is walking around the cabin to face you both, a look of shock and entertainment on his features.

His dark eyes look between you two, Ethan wide eyed, clearly having just been caught doing something, and you behind him, with your arms crossed, eyes narrowed as you attempt to pretend like nothing was just happening between you two. 

None of you say anything, then Chad licks his lips, takes a breath, and his eyes widen just a bit. “Oh,” he says, dragging out the exclamation. You think that you’re caught, and that Chad will never let you live this down. But when you take a closer look at Chad, you see this he looks a little more relaxed than usual, and there’s a slight sway to his stance. 

“I see what’s going on here.” And you do, too. 

“Do you?” you challenge, eyebrows raised. 

“Yep,” Chad pops the ‘p’, clearly proud of himself for coming to whatever conclusion he’s reached. “You two are still on the outs, huh?” A weight instantly lifts from your shoulders. Chad already isn’t the most perceptive (he never knows when people have crushes on him, for example), but add slight intoxication, and he wouldn’t know anything if it knocked on the door and introduced itself. 

Chad nods, hands resting on his hips as his lips purse for a second. “Yeah, mhm. That’s what it is. You’re over here bickering and arguing and fighting off that sexual tension but hey! I say give in to it, you know. You’re only young and horny once!” And that’s all Chad has to say because he’s waving dismissively to you both with one hand, going up the steps and reaching for the handle, and he’s stepping into the cabin, the wood slamming against the doorframe acting as a goodbye. 

You turn to face Ethan, still a little flustered yourself, and he’s still a little flushed. His hands twitch at his sides, and you mindlessly bite down onto your lower lip. 

“So, do you wanna continue?” he asks, words low, and he’s back to being awkward. 

A small smile on your face, your foot steps behind the other, your thumb hooks over your shoulder. “I should probably check on my kids …” You trail off, Ethan doesn’t say anything, so you turn around and take a step in the other direction. 

You don’t make it far before Ethan has a hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you back, and the other finds your waist to keep you steady against him. He kisses you, and you melt into it, chest pushing against his, hands fisting in the bottom of his shirt. You’re willing to stay like this a little longer, but the footsteps get louder from inside, and it acts as an alarm, warning you of Chad’s incoming arrival, which comes just as you two pull away with enough room between you both to be deemed slightly platonic. 

Chad doesn’t acknowledge you both again, whistling to himself as he walks away, and you and Ethan stay silent until he’s far away enough for either of you to speak. 

“Still wanna check on your kids?” Ethan asks, eyebrows raised knowingly. 

You take a second to think about it, eyes scanning over Ethan’s brown curls, his pretty eyes, his pink tinged cheeks and his even pinker lips, the way they’re swollen with enough evidence that you were there. And you have your decision when your eyes reach his shoulders, strong even under his shirt, a piece of his body you’ve seen during lake days but you were never really allowed to ogle due to wanting to seem professional. 

“I’m sure the others have them handled.”

[k-rui]

welcome to tonights show

𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓪𝓼𝓪𝓼 𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓶

[what the fuck is tsukasas room]

im your host, kei kmishirorui rwdvekfet.

hello! this is just me complaining.

1.

first off! this chair.

???

2.

tsukasas room has 7 cieling lights, not including the giant one in the center, a hole(???) on his ceiling, a missing wall, and a wall thats basically just a giant window. and a candle and a lamp thats CURRENTLY ON, BY THE WAY. how does he live like this.

...8 cieling lights

*the lamp moves to his desk in the night images. he moves it back up there every morning.

3.

his bed placement. and the plant.

4.

not really a huge complaint but i find his big fucking mirror so funny and how his lamp is simulating a stage light (turn the damn thing off you have enough light in that god damn room.)

5.

just. this. the odd shelving. the random blue cabinet. the fucking chair that i already mentioned

6.

therea nothing in that big cabinet. for some reason i highly doubt the top ones have anything in them

*anon has informed that theres trophies visable in the big cbinet in the night images of his room. thanks

7.

this isnt really a complaint either but im just imaging him picking up a book in the evening, lighting the candle, putting on reading glasses and sitting in this strangely fancy and completely random chair (with very weird placement) reading

nope nevermind now im imagining him sitting on these mats criscross applesauce reading or writing whatever those books are

8.

just oh i dont know the fact that hes MISSING A WALL??? AND HE BASICALLY HAS NO PRIVACY WITH THAT GIANT WINDOW??? AND THE FACT THAT HIS ROOM IS ABOVE THE KITCHEN???

he snores and the whole house can hear him

the giant window goes for saki too by the way

(also whats with the weird....... long thin window on that wall????)

sakis room also has way too much fucking light how many lights does a tenma need

maybe ill start a new show "what the fuck is sakis room"

aaand thats all for tonight folks!! tune in again. probably never

[ronearoundblindly]

Ransom x reader

Enemies to lovers , bot came from wealthy backgrounds as one is a trust fund (ran) then the other has her life getting good with a buissness outside her family . Why are they enemies at first? Shes admired for not relying on her folks too much as a teen and down to earth , enjoys the finer things as she views them as a reward or gift but ransom Demands that shit they also bicker how shes freinds with people bellow her and she sasses him how he always rely on perks thats petty

Warnings: so. much. cursing. It's all from Ransom's point of view, and since he's a disturbing(ly sexy) asshole, that translates to language. Plus smut (protected sex) MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY. Reader's background/company is ambiguous. Also of note is the 'enemies' portion is quite subtle. WC 4k

The Root of All Ransom, Part One (see series)

There’s new money and then there’s new money.

Ransom loves the smell of new, physical money, and because he spends so much of it, he gets to feel those crisp bills all the time. Sure, his black card gets the same look at a register, but the plastic gets tattered after a while. The metal cards are a nice touch. Hefty. Metal makes a great tapping sound when he’s bored of waiting for a retail worker to do their fucking job and let him leave already. Cash is easiest to toss down and run out. He likes all forms of money. Ransom is diverse that way.

You, however, you are the New Money, the shit that’s a title, the shit that’s been earned, and it reminds him of his mother’s ranting. ‘Self-made’ his ass. Grandpa Harlan never made Linda repay a dime; that’s not a million-dollar loan. That’s good, old-fashioned nepotism. That’s inheritance come early. Old Harlan is Old Money, but New Money You is just as stale.

“She’s a breath of fresh air,” the middle-aged woman beside him coos.

Fucking gross.

Each time Ransom sees you he gets a foul taste in his mouth. His nostrils flair. He can smell the budgeting on you even at a distance. For every one of these events (with swag bags and a charity write-off promise) where you make a speech after receiving an award for whatever—he’s already too bored to listen—Ransom drinks heavily to make it to the end of the night.

He hasn’t given a dime, mind you, but Harlan has, and Linda has. Neither of them ever wants to go hobnob. Linda would but can’t trust Richard at these things, so she sticks to daytime shindigs. Walt is a bumbling, awkward mess, so he can’t represent anything other than why big pharma for every neurosis exists. He’s not welcome. Instead, it falls to nowhere-else-to-be Ransom. 

He thought he’d hate the events as much as the company until he found a thick, silver lining: some starry-eyed wannabe is always seated at an adjacent table. Handsome, young Ransom is guaranteed someone to go home with. Bonus points if they give head during the car ride.

Tonight though, he fucks up.

Ransom Drysdale makes the mistake of chatting up your date: your friend, Mariah, from high school who’s in town for the weekend. She’s doing a remarkable impression of a bimbo socialite, and he’s already wasted most of the meal trying to land an unattainable prize—though not a worthwhile prize, obviously.

It’s not his fault; he was at the bar when you and Mariah arrived, so he had no clue.

He expects you to be defensive once you make your way back to the table after your speech and find your friend with him. Ran is sure his reputation precedes him. He looks great in the photo ops just as he looks for great ass. He thinks your smile seems forced until you get closer. All you do is tell them to enjoy themselves.

Mariah here looks like she’s about to drop to her knees under the table, and you’re gonna let her?

You can’t possibly be stupid enough to trust him, can you?

He snorts out a chuckle, thinking you may know your business but you clearly do not know people. He wants to fuck Mariah. Then he really wants Mariah to tell you about fucking him, ad nauseam, hopefully, multiple times. Then he’s not sure whether he’d prefer you want to fuck him or you be mad about him fucking Mariah. He’ll have to wait and see.

“Isn’t she the best,” Mariah tosses out as flippantly as her hair extensions over her exposed shoulders. “I’m surprised she wanted me to come instead of a real date.”

“Sure,” he swigs his whisky quickly, “but then I wouldn’t get you for the evening, too.”

If he’s not mistaken, Mariah just soaked the pretty little thong he can just see the outline of in her tight dress, so Ran lays on a few more easy moves and thinks it’s a done deal.

Alas, he is wrong, and you and your friend leave together smiling while he races to text a booty call to meet at his place in a half-hour.

It’s all very frustrating, and Ransom hates you that much more.

Ransom has two new coats, a half-dozen new shirts, a three-piece suit, three new pairs of shoes, and he’s looking for the piece de resistance: a scarf (or several).

He loves accessories because he loves to change things up. He gets bored extremely easily, and he feels better when he treats himself.

In Hermès, he eyes a few options. He might even bother to get that one for his mother just because it has a few hideous accent colors he knows she’ll hate. Linda will still smile tightly and fake gratitude; it’s the only type of gratitude she knows. He doesn’t find anything for himself though, so he heads to the counter and recognizes the curves of a woman’s backside…in a dress that he’s seen in multiple candid tabloid shots.

How old is that garment? Jesus. Have some pride, woman.

His bored greeting startles you.

“Mr. Drysdale,” you exclaim, hand over your heart, “good to see you again.”

Is it?

“Right,” he grumbles roughly. “What brings you out of your goodie-two-shoes hole this afternoon?”

You seem excited, but in a different way than he’s ever noticed. At events, you are the picture of humility, full of genuine gratitude (and possibly the only reason he knows what that looks like), but this is something else.

The salesman returns with your order and unboxes a Birkin bag for you to inspect.

Now you’re just plain giddy, overjoyed, and vibrating, and Ransom preens a little to see Ms. High-and-Mighty so lowered as to indulge in retail therapy.

That’s a twenty-five thousand dollar bag you’re holding.

“Nice color,” Ransom chides, but he isn’t rewarded with your deterrence. You simply turn to beam at him.

“My favorite!” Your hands return to sweeping over the beautiful pebbled leather. “I had to wait for years—which is fine—“ you quickly add “—but I promised myself I’d do ten hours a week of volunteer work to earn such an extravagance.”

“Are you going to use it?”

You nod without turning back to him.

“Are you going to enjoy it?”

Another saleswoman motions to help him with the scarf he holds, and Ransom says nothing to her but drops his black card on the counter.

“Very much so,” you say quietly, almost like a confession.

“Then what’s so crazy about that?”

You giggle. You actually giggle. You don’t tell him how wrong he is or judge his spending in any way, which is surprising when that’s all those events he knows you from are for—to get him to spend money their way.

Ransom doesn’t know what compels him to stand there with his small purchase and watch while your bag gets squared away. You don’t choose to wear it out of the store, something he finds patently ridiculous because it’s a fucking Birkin and you’re about to walk out of Hermes with it in a box in another bag.

He pushes off the counter to walk out with you, an idea springing up.

“You’ve met my mother, I believe.”

Your polite smile gives nothing away. “Yes, a few times. Very briefly.”

“Her birthday is next month—” he lets an employee open the door for you both “—her sixtieth, allegedly.”

“Oh, well, tell her happy birthday for me.”

“You could come.”

Your face scrunches but whether from his offer or the bright sun on the street, he doesn’t know. His sunglasses are already on. You rummage around in what looks like a tapestry bag on the bad side of vintage for yours. 

This is why you should have left using the Birkin, and he’s honestly surprised Hermès even served you looking like you do.

Where’s all that new money now, he thinks, because one bag is certainly not all of it.

“Why not? You both own businesses and run in similar circles.”

“Hugh, I don’t think—“

“Ransom,” he corrects with a sneer.

“Well, I just…” You regard him thoroughly for a long moment until a black car pulls up and its driver opens the door for you.

There it is. There’s a bit of pomp. He’s almost proud to see you being served. You’re just like him—or rather his family—in a way; you have help.

“Fine,” you say to Ransom while nodding to your driver, “text me the details, and I’ll see if I’m in town.” Even though your words are dismissive, they sound genuine and kind.

Yuck.

Your driver fishes a card from his breast pocket and curtly adds a ‘sir,’ before shutting you behind tinted windows.

Ok, so it’s not the easiest ‘yes’ he’s ever gotten. It wasn’t a ‘no’ either. Good news is that Ransom is not holding his breath. If it works, it works.

The idea is to flaunt you in front of Linda, not romantically, of course, but as a younger woman, perceived as better, more self-made, more successful, with a Birkin bag in his mother’s actual favorite color, while he gives her a scarf she’ll be revolted by. It’s perfect.

This did not at all go to plan.

Linda is supposed to be pissed. She’s supposed to be appalled and furious and have to hide that from her guests—which is most of the family, catering staff, and Harlan’s house help. She’s supposed to look at Ransom and know that he did this on purpose.

He told you not to bring a present for a reason, but he made damn sure when he picked you up that you were wearing that damn bag.

How the fuck was he supposed to know you’d go and be the dumbest bitch ever?

Linda got through two whole sentences of greeting after obviously clocking the Birkin and then turned it about her. She’s predictable that way, but you are not.

“That’s my favorite color,” she said.

“Mine too,” you said.

You both fucking laughed.

“I’ve always wanted one,” she said.

“You should have one,” you said.

He should have known right then except for on what planet does someone…

Ransom only stepped out for a few minutes to mess with Walt, smoking that sickening cigar. When he comes back in, there on the table right beside Linda is your bag. He looks around, but you aren’t in the living room. Then his mom smiles and pets the Birkin possessively.

“Oh, Ran, that girl is so sweet,” Linda coos.

Richard snorts in astonishment. “She’s really something.”

Ransom cringes at the lustful leer on his father’s face while he stares off toward the library.

What the shit? 

You gave his mother your bag? After one minute of conversation?

God fucking damn it.

He has no words. Ran just purses his lips and stalks off to the other room in search of you. You’re deep in conversation with Harlan, seated across from each other in the bay windows of the library in high-backed upholstered chairs. On the floor beside your foot is a Blood Like Wine tote, partially filled.

“Grandpa,” he interrupts, leaning one arm against your chair with a questioning gaze.

“Ransom, my boy, it’s good to see you.” Before he can get a word in, Harlan waves an arthritis-gnarled hand in your direction. “Have you met my neighbor?”

“Neighbor?”

You shrug with a weak smile. “I purchased the Carlyles’ old property last year but kept my apartment in town.”

He’s thrown off by this news, thinking. “That’s walking distance from here,” Ransom says flatly.

“Yes, it is. That’s why I can find my own way home tonight.”

“Ah,” Harlan taps his nose, “so you two know each other.”

“Your grandson was kind enough to invite me.”

“And you made quite a fucking impression,” Ransom growls while putting a hand on your shoulder.

Harlan flicks Ransom away. “Don’t be creepy, son. Get the lady a drink.”

“Mr. Thrombey, please.” You stand, forcibly pushing his hand off of you. “Ransom’s your family. Why don’t I get you boys something while you catch up?”

“Whiskey, neat, two fingers,” Ransom bitterly spits, shoving the hand in his jean pocket.

Harlan tsks him with a solemn look.

“The same,” his grandfather sighs before returning your smile. “I appreciate it, dear.”

“Anytime.”

Ran fights the urge to kick your tote on the floor.

Harlan simply moves on. “One of my next novels is an intrigue of corruption, involves a non-profit, and Good Miss was enlightening me to a few details of their inner workings.”

“Glad you both can turn it off for five minutes,” Ransom grunts back.

Harlan’s sharp gaze lands on him.

“While I am glad you did not use her and lose her, as they say.”

“God, no,” Ransom groans in revulsion. “She’s here to rub Linda the wrong way…not me.” He tries to bury his self-satisfied smirk in a sweater sleeve held to his mouth.

“Charming.” Harlan means anything but charming as he looks to see you side-tracked again by a chat with Marta. “You’ve done much worse before—“ he turns to the window “—but my guess is she never has.”

Ransom’s jaw twitches. This is why he hates his family, even his favorite among them. No wonder he brought someone exclusively to annoy them, hoping to make them feel small and selfish, but he forgot something important.

They’re all like him. None of them care to be selfless. They don’t want to be charitable. They are fine being perceived that way, if necessary, if it gains them something else they want.

But.

What Harlan says gives him another idea. What if he keeps you around? They are sure to lose their minds. Harlan would be impressed (and proved wrong). Richard will be jealous (although that’s still gross). Linda would be unable to manipulate that situation (though she’ll try).

Plus, Joni will hate you instantly because you’re prettier and don’t need her snake-oil skin shit.

“Harlan,” you offer his grandfather his drink first, then turn to Ran with that irritatingly kind smile. “Hugh.”

He takes the glass and flashes pearly whites.

It’s decided. He just hopes the sex won’t be as boring as he thinks. You’re definitely not a roadhead bitch.

Although based on that damn Birkin, you are stupidly generous, so he hopes that translates to the bed…or wherever he fucks you.

“Sure your shoes can take it?”

As if he can’t walk across the fucking woods…the embers of waning alcohol all push around in his gut on the trek over to the Carlyles’ place. He hasn’t gone over there since maybe freshman year of high school during a long Christmas stay at Thrombey Manor.

He was wrong. Ran’s shoes are not fine, but he has to bury that irritation down deep while entering the warm and inviting mansion filled with your...roommates?

Four other people live in a house that you sometimes stay in: Angela, Diego, Terrell, and Luca.

Ran doesn’t fucking care. This is not some weird orgy he’s planning. He almost walks right back out and floors the Beamer back to civilization.

Mercifully, you have most of the upstairs entirely to yourself, a small suite of a bedroom, office, and bathroom neatly tucked above a quieter part of the house.

He’s surprised that you drop the tote bag and start shedding clothes so quickly.

“Sorry about them. We all went to uni together and this works as a crash-pad for the internationals.”

“No problem,” he sighs, “I know what it’s like.” They’re freeloaders, like my cousin Meg, is what they are, but Ransom keeps that thought to himself.

You offer him another drink, which Ran accepts, watching you like a hawk with sky-blue eyes.

Beneath your dress, you wear a slip, a silky satin thing that actually impresses him. He’s convinced there is thick shapewear beneath it because that just seems like a you thing to do: one sexy move, one boner killer. Instead of showing him though, you spin your finger around in front of him.

“Really,” he quips. He’s already resigned to putting his dick in either way, so he doesn’t really care.

You smile too sweetly for it to read as coy. “Make yourself useful and go to my bag.”

“That’s not a bag,” he scoffs. “Might as well be made of tissue paper.”

He still obediently wanders over to the chair you draped it over and flips back a handle. Excellent. This nearly makes up for the entire party. Ran derives a sickening amount of pleasure from knowing these condoms were stored in the Birkin his mother will now carry around with pride.

He downs the remainder of his drink and whips out a wrapper. He wouldn’t care if you didn’t have any, or didn’t want to use one, or if you made some reference to them but the lights were off and didn’t check. The lights are still on though, and you’ve pointed him right to them. He’ll play ball. He hopes you play with balls, too. He hopes this is fun instead of just mediocre. He prepares himself to be actively bored, however, because that’s the most likely scenario.

It’s his usual MO. Works like a charm. Start out slow and teasing—girls tend to think it’s sensual but he’s being lazy (and they beg soon anyway)—until he can take over in exactly whatever fashion he wants. Except you don’t quite let things unfold that way.

He expects you to want him to kiss you, but you playfully turn away each time he advances. You swat his hands when he tries to touch you, only to grab the hem of his sweater and rip it off him. You don’t wait for him to unbutton his jeans before sliding cool fingers down past the band of his boxers.

Fuck, he does like it when they're forward.

He pops the button, pushes the zipper, and shuffles out of the heavy cotton while you get a good hold of him. Ransom doesn’t care that your hands are soft, just rough enough for friction and nothing more, and he doesn’t really care that your slip is still on because he’s figured something else out.

You’re not wearing underwear. He’s not sure if you were but tossed them aside while he grabbed the condom, or perhaps you’ve been speaking with his family for the better part of two hours with your cunt kissed by the same air they were all breathing, but he’s happy about it.

Ransom leans forward to you again, but instead of letting him kiss you, you look down to spit in your hand and work him harder.

“The sooner you suit up…” you taunt him, glancing at the wrapper still clutched in Ran’s hand, “sooner you get in for the night.”

He’s been with bossy doms before—not his favorite—but this is different. His instinct is that you want a show of it, maybe you want to see him touch himself, maybe you want to see his face as the tight latex is rolled down his throbbing cock, but you hold his gaze while turning your body away from him.

Since he doesn’t have to play up how he looks, Ran focuses on the expanse of skin across your back. There’s so much more than your dress showed, yet not enough, and it’s beautiful. He thinks about the same, smooth skin that must be stretched across your ass and rolls his hips against the fabric while his mouth maps your neck and shoulders.

Not romantically, of course, he’s not trying to make you feel better—you are more than capable of feeling yourself, but Ransom enjoys a little taunting of his own now and then.

His hands move to cup your breasts, and fuck, did you not have a bra on earlier either? This day is full of surprises.

His intense rutting coupled with teasing your taut nipples makes your slip catch between your ass cheeks, and he angles his dick to press through the apex of your thighs, taking the satin with him.

Pretty skin beneath his lips, pretty noises ringing in his ears, Ran pulls away.

The fresh wet spot on your slip sticks to the condom when he looks down at his demanding erection.

You’re ready. He’s ready.

Fuck, Ransom is so ready, and you know it, climbing onto the edge of your bed to get comfortable presented in all your glory, all the lights on, fingers already teasing and working yourself open.

This is already way better than he expected. He doesn’t have to work. He doesn’t have to try. He doesn’t have to fake interest. You handle your clit like the expert you are on yourself, and Ran works himself up, sheathed and thrusting in you like the expert he is on himself. Pleasure for pleasure, and fuck is it pleasurable. 

His fist holds onto the bundled satin across the small of your back, and you make natural escalating noises.

It sounds genuine.

Shit, when was the last time he didn’t get annoyed at some bitch hamming up her moans? Not that it distracted him from coming, no, he could get him whether she was dramatic or an awkward, silent one. Takes more effort when he has to ignore something she’s doing though. 

Then you demand he goes faster, and he’s into it. Then you come with a groan that’ll haunt his hindbrain, and he can feel the massaging grip and release. Then you take his balls in hand, tugging gently, and he fucking loses it.

He feels the hot flood of his cum into the condom as your walls still ripple against him. 

Damn, he doesn’t even care if you made him wrap up. That was fucking satisfying. It wasn’t even complicated, but you came and he came and that’s all he needed.

Ransom hasn’t been at a girl’s place in a while (certainly not without his car ready to get away) because he prefers to kick them out and already be home, but his hookups are usually clinging to the idea of staying the night.

You immediately go to the bathroom, clean up, and—now completely naked—stand at the foot of the bed.

“You good, Hugh? I’m on a call with Beijing in fifteen, so take your time—“ you button up a plain, blue shirt, your nipples showing right through “—or sleep or whatever. I’ll be a bit.”

“Only the help calls me Hugh.” It’s all he can come up with while he stares at your breasts and contemplates why he feels a bit used.

He got off, you’re not clinging to him, and you’ve given him an easy out. If he had to describe his perfect fucking date, this would be it, and his gut twists oddly just thinking about being dismissed.

You don’t miss a beat, heading for the door with only panties and the shirt on. Your ass pops out easily from under the hem.

“Suppose I’ll see you at the Kennedy thing next weekend, huh?”

Ran slaps his hand over his face, remembering there’s another fucking event coming up. “Yeah. Is that the stupid inner-city garden initiative?”

You hum in response, grabbing something else out of your flimsy purse tote. He better not see you carry that fucking thing around in front of actual fucking people. You don’t see him staring at your ass through his fingers before you swivel back around.

“If you need something, text me. Don’t knock.”

He snorts, knowing that he wouldn’t stay if a girl paid him to.

For one shining moment, you turn to beam at him. “Thanks for making it quick,” you chirp with a wink and shut the door behind you.

You goddamn wink at him after chucking him into the quickie category in your own mansion.

What the fuck?

Out of spite, he should just sleep here, he thinks. Let Harlan question why the Beamer is still in the drive. Let Walt stare at the car and know Ransom can get better pussy than that twat has had in a lifetime. Let Linda…

Hell, let Linda do whatever the fuck she wants and let Richard think whatever the fuck he wants.

Ransom takes his own naked walk of glory to the bathroom and does just that—he sleeps in a hookup’s bed all night, completely pleased with himself and his control of the situation.

a/n: Honest to god, this was supposed to be a one-shot. Genuinely, I swear. Now that I've plotted it out though...there was no way. I just personally don't really like more than 5k per Tumblr post. Too easy to lose your place. This way we stick with a three-ish-act structure, too. Squee! Hope you enjoyed this, and please let me know what you think in comments, reblogs, or anon asks!

[Next Part]

[Main Masterlist]

[e-munson666]

Something worth Yearning For

++Jamie Campbell Bower x Actress!Reader++

(Your on Fallon With Jamie for the film you both recently stared in, and Jimmy prods at the status of your relationship)

Content/Warnings ⚠️:18+, language, pining, reader and Jamie have major chemistry, just overall fluffy.

🖤Lady Hellfire🖤

You ware pacing around your dressing room, trying hard to combat your nerves when you hear a light knock on the door.

"Are you ready love?" Jamies smooth voice seeps through the door. When you don't respond for a minute or so Jamie clears his throat, "I'm coming in okay?" He announces before slowly pushing open the door.

He sees you nervously wandering around the room, and he sighs. "Hey, you alright?" He asks, stepping in front of you before you walk passed him again.

"Jamie, I am so fucking nervous, this is my first big interview like this, what if I blow it? What if I say something stupid?" You blurt, words leaving your mouth before you can even catch yourself.

Jamie places a large hand on your shoulder, "Sweetheart, you will do just fine, Jimmy is a delight, he will make sure you feel comfortable out there, and I'll be right next to you" he assures, rubbing the place where his hand sat.

He takes a second to really look at you, now that you are in the process of calming down.

You were wearing a sickeningly tight crushed black velvet dress, it slid down your frame like it was glued there, trailing all the way down your body to your ankles. A long wide slit on the left side, revealed your gorgeous legs and sky high Stilettos.

You were covered in Beautiful black jewels, and a small silver skull ring that matched one on Jamies own hand. It was a gift he brought you on the last day you two filmed together, and you'd both kept them on ever since.

He looked up and caught sight of your reflections in the mirror next to him, you looked like a posh couple, and it was making Jamie swoon. You stepped forward and nuzzled your face into his chest. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

You stayed like that way for several minutes, before another knock startled you and you stepped back.

"Its time" says Jamies management, motioning for the two of you to follow. Jamie grabs your hand, offering it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the dressing room and towards the hall.

You stand in the prep area, a place right behind the big curtain you walk onto the set from. Jamie was thumbing the back of your hand as you waited nervously to be called on stage.

"Alright folks, up next we have a very special treat for you! Joining us know is the one and only Jamie Campbell Bower, and his beautiful costar Y/N"

The crowd cheers loudly as the two of you walk through the curtain, Jamie still gripping your hand. He leads you over to your seat, you wave and bow before the cheering fans, and next to you Jamie is showing you off, motioning to you before clutching his chest dramatically before sitting next to you.

"Jamie, Y/N!" Jimmy says excitedly as the crowd starts to quiet. "Thank you so much for joining us tonight"

"Thank you so much Jimmy, it's an honor to be here again" Jamie says, leaning over and shaking Jimmys hand. Jamie looks over to you before adding "its also an honor to accompany my lovely costar on her first Fallon appearance" he says, clapping his hands along with the groud, grinning widely in your direction.

"Thank you for inviting me Jimmy, I'm a huge fan" you add, blowing Jimmy a kiss and smiling.

"Well I have to say, the two of you look fabulous, don't they?" Jimmy says, causing another uproar of cheers.

Jamie bows in his seat, taking the compliment graciously. "I only look this good because she's sitting next to me, I can assure you" he chuckles, taking your hand once again.

You blush at Jamies words, giggling into your free hand, "thats quite the compliment coming from you Mr Bower" you chuckle.

For a moment Jamie and you just gaze at each other, forgetting the cameras and everyone in the room.

"I can't help but notice you guys are matching, was this intentional?" Jimmy pokes, noticing the looks between his two guests.

"I wish I could say it was, but it was just a lovely coincidence," Jamie replies, straightening his collar as he spoke.

"No I totally snuck into your dressing room earlier and snooped in your wardrobe actually" you joke, causing everyone in the room to boom with laughter.

"So, Jamie, Y/N" Jimmy starts, leaning onto his desk a little bit and pausing for dramatic affect.

"The fans can't help but notice how close you guys are, and someone sent us in this picture" Jimmy asserts, taking a large note card from his desk and flipping the picture into the camera view.

It was you and Jamie, holding coffees, leaning your heads together, little skull rings on display.

The crowd "oooooooooohhhhhhssss"

"So I have to ask, are you two an item? With all the evidence, it definitely looks like you are, right folks?" Jimmy booms, causing another loud cheer from the audience.

Jamie glances at you, sending a quick wink before turning back to Jimmy

"We are not together" Jamie says, causing the audience to groan in disappointment. "But trust me, I'm trying" Jamie adds cooly, chuckling at response the crowd gave. Jamie squeezed your hand again and you felt your face flush.

"Wow! Am I hearing this right" Jimmy began to say, but the rest of what he said was drowned out as you slipped into your mind.

Your heart was racing, and the words Jamie spoke to the crowd, to the cameras, hummed in your brain on repeat.

"Trust me, I'm trying"

*

*

*

*

A/N: as always my loves, please interact with this to let me know if you want more of this content. Decided to bust this one out tonight in honor of 260 followers, you are all amazing and you are very very much appreciated.

[jennazed]

So today I was kinda bored and decided to read the "Be More Chill" book to see if there were any differences between the book and the musical.... and OH BOY WERE THERE SOME DIFFERENCES!!! I wrote down some of them, enjoy (beware spoilers obviously)

Jeremy has humiliation sheets to quantiatively determine how much of an incel he is

Madeline is now Elizabeth?

Who tf is Mark, why does he exist, and why is Jeremy friends with him?

Everyone knows Jeremy wrote the letter to Christine, but now he wants to give her a chocolate shakespeare bc he is a total flirt (TM)

Jeremy's mom is around and has a divorce lawyer-ing firm with his dad now

Michael is a white boy with an asian girl fetish

JEREMY IS A THEATER KID! JEREMY IS A THEATER KID! JEREMY IS A THEATER KID! JEREMY IS A THEATER KID! JEREMY IS A THEATER KID!

Mr Reyes doesn't microwave his own hot pockets, he uses child labor to do so instead

Christine is super angsty like she needs an anger management therapist or smth

Michael's brother got a squip apparently and is going to Brown University

Oh btw, Jeremy's dad doesn't even wear underwear around the house he just lets his son see his junk?

Michael also has a knee fetish apparently???

Sadly, the play is the actual Midsummer's Dream and not a Midsummer's Nightmare about Zombies

Ok Christine is no longer angsty?

Nvm she is angsty again that was quick

Jeremy goes "Heh-heh." a lot

According to Michael, all girls are shirt thieves and should never be trusted

Ok Christine is no longer angsty again and apparently she is very specific on how relationships are supposed to be formed bc of course she is

The whole Halloween party is now a school-sanctioned event

Is Jeremy a furry? what does "sometime tonight I’ve got to find pics on the Internet of girls with tails" mean???????

Instead of dressing up as Juliet, Christine dresses up as a prostitute angel for the halloween party

Btw michael knows all about the squip from day 1, his brother has one

Rich does his whole ITS FROM JAPAN moment at the halloween party instead of while pissing

Rich's halloween costume is marijuana

the squip is no longer "top secret can't even look it up on the internet shit" bc there's like 361 results for it on yahoo apparently

Jeremy's dad might have been gay for Ben Franklin

Instead of using his Bar Mitzvah money, Jeremy steals his aunt's beanie babies to finance his squip

LORE!! The guy from the lady's running shoes place who gives Jeremy the squip, his name is RACK LMAO

Jeremy keeps his squip-shenanigans secret from michael so we don't get the awesome sequence "try to say something cool" "i think i just blew my bar mitzvah money on a wintergreen tic-tac" "yeah not cool" :(

RACK instead of the squip says the "You can also set me to Sean Connery, Jack Nicholson, Sexy Anime Female hehehehe" line. This change is devestating

"The gayer it feels, the better your posture" YOU HEARD IT HERE FOLKS GAY PEOPLE HAVE BETTER POSTURE

In the book, the squip can see into parallel universes bc quantum physics

Brooke is Anne

Jeremy flirts with Chloe instead of Brooke/Anne man they really changed a lot of stuff around yk

Eminem dies like immediately. That squip DEFINITELY killed him lol

Fun fact: Jeremy is NOT circumcised!

Apparently you just think about the squip turning off to turn it off wow

Jeremy now does pushups whenever he sees an attractive guy on tv instead of whenever he thinks about sex

SQUIPS CAN CONTROL YOUR DREAMS? THATS SO COOL!

lol the squip hates singing

Jeremy instead of the squip says "up up down down left right left right B A start"

wait Brooke is in the book? Then who tf is Anne???

Madeline is now Katrina?

The squip becomes murderous if you drink, i love it!

how does jeremy not know what a pheromone is but is perfectly able to memorize monologues about how humanity has stopped evolving?

Jeremy is a professional boxer and will punch you in the neck and make your gameboy say "dont fuck with me >:(" if you mess with him, remember that folks

Apparently the squip thinks acting like a dog is cute?

NOOO! Some dude named Jason Finderman is the one who has his parents on the run for money laundering and hosts the party instead of Jake

Huh, no optic nerve blocking of Michael? Maybe this version of the squip is actually trying to help Jeremy

Poor Jenna :( she just wanted to talk about how Elizabeth is a slut and Jeremy turned her down

Apparently the squip is also a certified drivers ed instructor! Who knew?

JEREMYS DAD SAYS THE N WORD OK ITS PROBABLY FOR THE BEST THAT ONE GOT CHANGED

Ok smth is up with Jeremy, why is he confessing to Chloe while on ectsasy that he constantly dreams of her with a tail? AND WHY IS SHE KINDA INTO IT??

Fun fact: ectsasy turns the squip spanish

Apparently Chloe's boyfriend in the book is named Brock. Imagine going through 9 months of pregnancy and deciding that your baby should go by fucking Brock lol

Hugging legs is Jeremy's coping mechanism

I love this version of the squip: "TODO LO QUE USTED ES BUENO PARA ES SEXO DEL INTERNET." lmao

btw rich has a belly button kink

Rich named his pp Li'l Cheese Head

No michael in the bathroom moment, instead its more of a michael in a bathtub with an asian girl moment

Michael, who is still buddies with Jeremy :), rushes to tell him of the rich fire

I think rich set the fire bc alcohol + squip = murderous rage in this universe not bc he was trying to get it out

YOOO CHRISTINE IS GONNA BE A PSYCH MAJOR

Jeremy gets a therapist bc his mom freaks out when he tells her about the squip but the therapist is also squipped lol

lol all hollywood actors have squips, awesome

The squip's plan is to have Jeremy confess his love to Christine during the play in front of everybody but she calls him a loser… oof

The squip plans to write Jeremy's life story in a book and then have it kill itself with mtn dew red :O

THE WHOLE STORY WAS A BOOK JEREMY/THE SQUIP WROTE FOR CHRISTINE????? AND THEN IT JUST ENDS??????

That was one way to spend like four hours

[drakkonyan]

FINALLY TE WEIRD LITTLE GIRL MAKES HER APPERANCE WOOOOOOOHOHOOOO MY FAV CHARACTER ROLE ON THESE GAMES BY FAR

cant wait to meet her i love the assistant so much fr fr :3 (i mean truce is my fav followed by maya by a reason yknow?)

also thats it for tonight folks, see ya tomorrow imma keep liveblogging, rn its big eeph time

[sasukimimochi]

💋🌠❤️ -  @mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess (a kiss, a shooting star, a heart)

Travelerji/Merxian AU (The Night We Met) - See the other 10 prompts here.

This went by like a fever dream i wrote this so fast despite walking around making food as i was doing so, i really like it 😊✨💖 best read in dark mode if you can.

-

The Night We Met - Trails of Stardust

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms over the starboard side of Lan Wangji’s boat, smiling at the shimmers of moonlit water licking the sides of the boat as they drifted along. He shivered a bit and rubbed his arms, and at that moment Lan Wangji came to his side with a rudimentary blanket they picked up on a supply stop at one of the harbors.

“Thank you, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian smiled and cuddled up to the man’s side as he joined him on the deck.

“Mn.” Lan Wangji wrapped an arm around the merman, gently guiding him to his side. Lan Wangji was always so warm, Wei Wuxian loved it. Thankfully, Lan Wangji had also gotten a bit more used to the close contact the other craved over the past year or so. “Better?”

Wei Wuxian beamed, “The best.” He leaned into the other’s shoulder and looked up into the sky, a contented smile on his face. “The sky is beautiful tonight, don’t you think?” He gasped though, bringing the man’s attention to the sky as well. “Shooting stars! My favorite!”

When the merman quickly closed his eyes however, Lan Wangji tilted his head slightly in confusion. “Don’t you want to see them then-?”

“Shh!” Wei Wuxian was quiet for a moment longer after he had bapped the other gently in response, then opened his eyes again with a big grin. “I was making a wish!”

Lan Wangji smiled subtly and his eyelashes lowered, keeping his attention on the other’s crystal eyes rather than the stars. “What do you wish for?”

“But if I tell you, it won’t come true.” Wei Wuxian pouted, booping his nose up against the other’s jawline.

“Ask me.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me and if it is anything I can give you, see if I will deny you.”

Wei Wuxian felt his heart pick up, the warm rosy hues in his cheeks giving Lan Wangji the softest heart palpitations in return. “Anything?”

“Anything.” Lan Wangji brought the other’s hand to his chest, gently squeezing his hand.

“I wished that you would finally ask me to be yours.” Wei Wuxian spoke quietly, so quietly that Lan Wangji wasn’t sure he heard it right.

“Mine?”

“Yours.”

Lan Wangji swallowed quietly and ran his fingers into the other’s fringe, gently tangling them into the hair at the base of the other’s head. “Then please…be mine.”

Wei Wuxian met the other’s lips with fervor, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck to bring him so close it was like they were one.

“Yes, yes please.” Wei Wuxian answered softly, breathlessly as they indulged kiss after kiss, trails of stardust not able to steal their gazes away from each other.

-

Thats all of the mermay for now folks! Thank you for enjoying it with me 😊💖 I'm glad i could get all these done before i started working on GOM, although it was close kjslhfsg-- i will likely come back to this au even when its not may cuz i love my merboys, but this is a good note to leave it on for now i'd say.

Check out the art/extras for this and more MDZS Projects on my masterpost! ❤

-

[mythica0]

Are you taking requests? Is there by any chance you can do lee!Donnie and ler!leo,mikey,raph?

I was thinking maybe they’re playing truth or dare, and when Donnie is finally brave enough to chose dare, they dare him to let them tickle him for ______ amount of time. If not thats ok! I love your work! Hope you have a great day/night! Also take your time and don’t over work or push yourself.

Truth or dare

🎂: ROTTMNT

🧁: Donnie

🍫: Mikey, Leo, Raph

Summary: The boys are playing truth or dare! When Donnie finally picks dare, he’s met with an.. unexpected.. request.

A/N: Thanks for the request! (Like omg you spam liked my stuff and I love your stuff and that made me so happy-) also, this title is so basic but I couldn’t come up with a better one lol.

Truth or dare

The boys were playing truth or dare. This happened often, spontaneous activities that the four of them decided to play together.

“Hmm… Donnie! Truth or dare!” Leo shouted. He had an amazing idea for a dare for Donnie, but he hadn’t gotten to use it yet.

“Truth.” Aaaand, that’s why.

“You always pick truth!”

“Yup. Call me a coward all you want. Now, what’s your question?”

Leo thinks for a moment, before deciding on something simple.

“What’s your favorite piece of tech you’ve ever made?”

“Easy, Shelldon. He is not only technologically advanced, he’s also my son.” Yeah, that’s about what Leo was expecting.

Another few rounds of the game went on before Leo picked Donnie again.(it would be suspicious if he only chose Donnie )

“Dare.” He looked hesitant, but decided it would be okay, he’d only pick dare once, it’ll be fine- he takes a deep breath before he starts going into over-think mode.

Leo’s head screams ‘YES! Finally!’ When he hears it.

“I dare you, to let all three of us tickle you for 5 minutes.” He says, fairly dramatically.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Leo looks at him with a signature smirk, before saying “oh I dare,” before his tone changed to a much less dramatic,

“I mean, c’mon I already did!”

Both Mikey and Raph burst out laughing at the dumb joke and Donnie just groans before mumbling,

“Walked right into that one..”

“Yeah, you kinda did. ANYWAY, it’s time for you to do your dare~ “ He stood up and wiggled his six fingers, teasing brat.

The other two joined him, Raph walked over to Donnie and pinned his arms above his head.

Donnie gulped.

Raph kindly reassured Donnie that it was only for 5 Minutes and they wouldn’t go too far.

“You ready?” Mikey asked.

He wasn’t, but he was never going to be, so he guesses he’s ready enough. He nods.

“Alright then! In three, two, one, go!”

When the word ‘go’ was said, a timer was set, and then Donnie was attacked.

He would’ve tried to hold in his laughter but he knew with three people tickling him at once, it was hopeless.

So, he broke down into bubbly giggles all but instantly.

“Aww your laugh is so cute!” All of Donnie’s brothers cooed.

“Shuhuhut! Nohoho ihihit ihihisnt!” A faint blush dusts Donnie’s face at the words, which he quickly tries to hide.

“Oh, c’mon~ don’t hide your smile! We like seeing you happy!”

Mikey calls, before blowing a raspberry on Donnie’s ribs, causing him to turn his head away and fall into silent laughter for a moment.

“There it is!”

“We got a minute left, guys.” Raph informed.

“Grand finale?” Leo asks with a smirk.

“Gran finale!” The others repeat.

‘Oh shit I’m screwed.” Donnie thinks before all of them start blowing raspberry after raspberry all over his plastron and sides.

He is screaming and laughing so hard he feels as if he’ll bust a lung.

*ring , ring* the timer goes off, and all three stop their attack, rubbing away all the ghost tickles as Donnie giggles sleepily.

“I think we’re done for tonight, folks!”

“Agreed.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go get my giggly twin to bed, see ya!”

What a fun night of truth or dare.

———THE END————————————————

[into--folklore]

okay i listened to the leak dont @ me

i only listened through once because thats what i had time for tonight but ill be listening more over time lol

anyway it has some good songs it has some bad songs and cringe lyrics but eh ! overall its alright. i would say middle tier tsw*ft content. i would say it would fall in my rankings here atm:

folklore > rep > midnights > evermore > speak now > ttpd > 1989 > lover > red > fearless > debut

spoilers i guess for implied TayLore but uh its implied joe not only suicide baited her but also love bombed her, abadoned her in their home alone and then cheats on her possibly multiple times while continuing to love bomb

some folk are saying that its prob m*tty he*ly that did the suicide baiting but i dont have enough context to dissect the muses of each song. idk it feels weird to have ur title track song be about your apparant fling from last spring and not the 6 yr relationship guy

eh again i need see written lyrics to really dissect each song like. just in terms of lyrical analysis (outside of the implications of her actual life too bc i think that gives for more personal connection to the songs)

again everything with a grain of salt bc we never know whats real and whats not. but i can "Understand" that for lil billionaire tsw*ft that having ur partner suicide bait u fucks you up a lot and why she "can" consider herself tortured because of it.

i mean i would be hypocritical to say otherwise bc my current art project is navigating the same feelings. or again, at least the feelings shes projecting in this music

i think its good at like. being her obviously trying to process these emotions honestly. of course from the perspective from someone so out of touch with "normal life" but still. who are we to tell someone how to grieve a complicated toxic relationship

im seeing some sw*fties say they really cannot relate but idk i could and can find myself relating to it more over time. it feels like an album that could be more of a grower over time than an immediate banger

florida is so good and its absolutely because florence has such a big part of it and shes such a vocal powerhouse. i wish we can get a full florence cover one day 🥺

top songs from first listen are: florida, whos afraid of little old me, and i can do it with a broken heart

^ florida ofc bc of florence but the other two have this like. angry manic episode energy that feels similar to rep. like genuinely i told my partner whos afraid of little old me reminded me of florence's dream girl evil. and i.... love dream girl evil

but really wild for multiple songs in this with lyrics about t*ylor wanting to kill herself bc she feels so bad. girlie.. relatable...

[transgenderdragons]

mushroom sly backstory!!!!!!! tw for general gross fungi shit, kinda body horror-y, etc

Some Guy, in ye olden times, is just fuckin around with fungi and makes this crazy powerful fungi! the ultimate life form!

it eats him

(not really lol)

it takes over his body and uses him as a vessel to spread to lots of other people

(since obvi no one at this time has special healing powers like sly, the fungi reaches the Brain Controlling point pretty fast)

the fungi basically decimates the town

a few brave survivors manage to kill everyone who was infected, the fungi on them kinda just. dissolves away

except the originally infected guy. idk why maybe bc he was the first one to be taken by the fungi so its like,,,, hardier or something

(hes basically dead but the fungi still seems healthy)

they smash his head into a pulp and bury him

"Phew! Thank goodness that's over with" they say! "No one will ever be infected by this thing again!"

BA DUM TSS

cue mr beewell. obviously hes only tryna dig up graves with mellified people in them so. i think there somethin weird about Some Guy's grave

maybe the soil looks weird or theres faint glowing mycellium or smthn idk im not the fungi expert. either way sly digs this guy up

the guy is completely covered in the fungi, but it looks very dead even tho it prob still has a faint glow

sly, being the genius he is, decides to partake in exactly Zero extra safety precautions and load this bad boy into his truck

because this thing looks weird and is potentially magic!

he takes the guy back to home base, unloads it somewhere, prob pokes and prods it a little before he hits the fucken hay

since the fungi needs about an hour of contact to spread, im saying he was just Sciencing long enough to catch the fungi. or he took a bite

however im also saying that since the fungi was mostly dead, there was no actual physical evidence of him catching it before he went ta sleep.

(no little mushrooms no weird patches etc)

so hes oblivious until he wakes up

he wakes up. notices some weird textures on his skin. turns on the lights and finds a mirror

what the fuck

theres patches of mycellium shit everywhere! and some baby mushrooms also

hes probably freaked out, he tries all the obvious methods of removing stuff, etc

calls up taylor eventually

[CUE CROWD CHEERING]

taylor time!!!!!!!!!! he also has no idea what to do. if this au intersects with mothboy au(prob not because its just. a Lot at once but its a cute idea) then they figure out eventually that t cant catch it. if its just Normal T then he just. wears gloves, probably a mask as well just in case of spores

they probably do some research, maybe t takes some samples for a lab, etc

at some point, maybe later in the day or the next day, sly is probably not having a great time bc those mushrooms are getting bigger and the patches have prob shifted a bit

GOOP TIME

as ive mentioned, the goops is kinda triggered by strong emotions. so hes just kinda secreting it rn.

gross

tub time!!!!!!!!!! hes like WHAT THE FUCK

probably calls t again

idk they just spend a lot of time researching and isolating. together #lovewins #slay

and at some point. evil grin. goodbye eyeball

prob starts with a film over slys right eye. kinda weird, a little concerning cuz it doesnt seeme to be coming off but. the mycellium patches always kinda shift around anyways + hes literally had Goop secreting out of his eyes before so.

hes in denial mode bc its Fine, actually, and also there's no good way to remove it other than shaving off any growth around the eye as best as he can

he wakes up in the middle of the night bc something feels wrong

everything looks kinda weird. a little off, like somethings missing

there is a giant clump of mushrooms growing out of his eye.

[LAUGH TRACK]

ok i think thats all for tonight folks!!!!!!!!!!!! uhh if any of this seems lacking in context any other info can be found in my mushroom sly tag 👍if u have any input/think this is out of character/etc lemme know ^_^

[book-of-baba-fett]

I’m so happy for the new chapter of IA because I do truly love the story, and it will be my bedtime reading tonight. but I also can’t help the jealousy I feel. how do you put your fic out there to get interactions? i’ve tried sharing my ocs, but I don’t get close to the level that your fic gets on the first day of being up; I’m lucky if I get 5 notes. is there something I’m doing wrong?

Hi anon, first off I want to say I’m sorry that your work isn’t being given the attention that you feel it’s due (and it probably deserves). Honestly this website is so hard to figure out, and you can’t predict what people will read and why.

Some of my general tips for people starting out, is to examine a few things about their works. What time and day are you posting? I typically post on Sundays now because i’ve learned most of my followers have standard weekday jobs or school, so if I post in the middle of the week it’s likely to get lost in the shuffle. I add plenty of tags, but also accurate tags, like don’t tag characters that won’t even appear in the fic or aren’t the main characters because that will just annoy people so they won’t read.

Also it’s hard to just post new stuff, sometimes it helps to talk with other writers here, and self promote your work because thats the only way it will get out there. I always tell folks they can tag me in anything they want me to check out, cause I don’t always look through the tumblr tags and sometimes the only way I see new stuff is if I’m tagged in it.

Hang in there, I’m sure it’s a situation of timing/being new but I also understand it still hurts. And when you do read the chapter, I hope you enjoy it.